Chapter 42, Not just fall

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After a day of hoarding food in my bed like some sort of drake, I finally emerge from my cocoon and head downstairs

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

After a day of hoarding food in my bed like some sort of drake, I finally emerge from my cocoon and head downstairs. 

All day yesterday the guys would open the door, chuck food in, and then run back downstairs. I'm not complaining of course, but I just feel so alone. Calvin is the only one that would dare talk to me. And well, Mysterious Fucker of course.

My first stop is at Lynch in the hospital room when I get downstairs.

"How's he doing?" I ask the assigned nurse.

"Well, he's breathing. His heart is beating. The machines are still plugged in but..." the nurse says. The guy's in his early thirties and keeps to the hospital room most of the time.

"But?" I ask, eager to know how Lynch is really doing.

"But, it's almost been a week and after two days of being in a coma, the chances doesn't look good... The brain is a sensitive organ and the mind, even more so. He's ready to wake up, but... Sometimes the mind would stay in a slumber if it isn't ready to handle something. Lynch's subconscious is keeping him asleep in fear of something," the nurse explains.

"His hair..." I mumble, "he isn't waking up until his hair is grown back..."

There's barely even a little fuzz on his head. How am I going to cope with him being asleep for months? And since Jessy isn't replying my texts...

"Well, he'll wake up when he feels secure," the nurse comments.

I nod before heading out.

"Don't scream," I sigh when I meet the guys in the dining room.

Everyone takes a step back and I roll my eyes before walking over to the dining table. On the table, there's a whole bunch of guns splayed out.

"Ooooh, an AMT AutoMag, Beretta eighty-seven Target, FN Five-seven, Barret M-eighty-two, PDSHP, Pindad P-M-two... These are some impressive guns," I comment.

The guys drop their jaws and Blake steps closer to me before turning back to both the East and West. "Amber's dad worked for Sterling," Blake explains.

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